One Night At Easy Daze
by TaraGeek
Summary: It had been nearly four years since Dee had seen her father and she honestly thought they had nothing left to say. Damn her though if there she was at some diner outside Palo Alto waiting for him. Convincing herself she DIDN'T care what he had to say. An AU pre pilot episode story. Both Winchester kids left when Sam got into Stanford. A "transfic" story with MTF trans* girl!Dean.
1. Chapter 1

Dee pulled her car into the parking lot of the Easy Daze dinner just outside of Palo Alto on I-280. It was the kind of place she'd grown up in, small time, run down but friendly in it's own way. There really wasn't a more fitting place to meet after SO long. She slid into a booth toward the back and ordered a coffee from the middle aged waitress beaming an amiable smile down at her. She knew she was nervous because the sight of the diner's prodigious selection of pies did nothing for her, heck she was pretty sure the coffee she was nursing would end up stone cold before it was more than half finished. Tonight she didn't think she could hold down even a single piece of pie and throwing up on his shoes sure would be a great way to say say hi to Dad again after nearly four years!

Dee had no idea why he'd called, why he'd sounded so earnest and un guarded and insistent on the brief voice mail she'd gotten and she REALLY didn't know how she felt about reconnecting after everything that had happened. She certainly wasn't going to tell Sam. He'd be mad at her for keeping it from him but big time college degree or not she was still his big sister and she was going to protect him. Truthfully, deep down she also knew it wasn't just Sammy she needed to protect. A very large part of her, the part that she knew was just like their father, wanted to tell Dad to go fuck himself. If he couldn't be there for his kids when they needed it, back when they actually WERE kids then why the hell should she waste her time with him now. Yet... here she was, waiting, feeling about 16 rather than 26 with her stomach doing back flips and a tiny self destructive voice in the back of her head still desperate for John Winchester to stride in, clap her on the shoulder and look at her with pride... just like he used to.

Four years ago she and Sam had left. Sam had gotten his full ride to Stanford, the little nerd that he was. It had been the push that they'd both needed to cut their losses and build their own life away from John Winchester and his expectations, his demands of their lives and what they should be. For Sam that had meant a life of hunting, the family business. Something that he had never accepted through tears, tantrums, screaming arguments and finally stoney silences that had in the end become all that was left. For Dee it had been more complicated, the family business had never been an issue for her. She was only four when Mom died but she remembered it clear as day and she STILL hunted, however much it pissed Sam off. For her it went deeper. She'd been very young when she first really realised that there was something wrong with her. She'd thought it might have been because they lost Mom, that she was reaching desperately to get her back, to replace her even but over time she knew it was more than that. She knew that the boy her father and brother saw, that everybody saw wasn't who she was. Pointing out that John Winchester's first born son, his little boy, was a girl, that had been impossible. It had been inevitable too and in the end far from screaming matches like Dad and Sam they wound up speaking just enough to carry on hunting. Just enough to plan attacks or to burn some poor bastards bones. In the end all they really had left were silences and utilitarian conversations where there eyes never met. So when Sammy left, so did she.

Her mind wandered as she nursed her now luke warm coffee and checked her watch. Dad was a full half hour later than he'd told her and she wondered would he even recognise her when he saw her? She'd been on hrt and testosterone blockers for a few years when they left but it had always been easier if she'd kept to increasingly ill fitting guy's clothes and shortish hair. A practical look for hunting and it's not like she was all high heels and lace now but she did look different. Longer hair to start with and dyed a mid blonde for no other reason than she kinda dug it. Reaching about half way down her back in tumbling waves she knew it was hardly "regulation" but she kept it out of the way in a fight. Her tank top and leather jacket didn't exactly show off her breasts but they didn't hide them like thrift store paid used to either and her jeans showed off a curvier build than Dad was sure to remember. All in all Dee had gotten to a place where she was content with her body, at times she was even pleased with it. She was a god damn awesome bad ass and as far as she was concerned being trans meant that she could fight harder than most of the hunters she'd met. God dammit, Dad would have to live with the daughter he had if he was so desperate to get back in with his children.

With John almost 45 minutes late Dee was beginning to consider forgoing caution and ordering a piece of pie after all. She was interrupted by a familiar rumble finally erupting in the parking lot. For about fifteen seconds her only thoughts were of missing that damn car and how awesome it would have been to inherit the Impala rather than driving her beat up Corolla. Eventually she was interrupted again, this time by the similarly familiar clunk of boots and the creak of old leather, sounds and smells of her father that stopped just short of her booth.

"Dean." Her father simply acknowledged, his voice devoid of emotion.

Dee gritted her teeth at the name and raised her eyes slowly and deliberately from her stone cold and half empty cup of coffee. Locking unblinking eyes with him she spoke one word in reply.

"**Deanna.**"


	2. Chapter 2

Dee kept her eyes locked and unblinking, she stared John down like some monster she was about to fight. Thinking of him that way would keep away all the old fears that her father represented.

"Dean." Had been his only greeting as he stood before her at the back of the Easy Daze diner.

The name came at her like a million attacks from a million monsters before and she defended against it just the same.

"**Deanna.**" She answered emphatically.

John's eyes flicked away from her's as he took the opposite seat. He laced his hands together on the table in front of him, his eyes remaining firmly fixed toward them. For a moment they sat together in silence before he spoke, nodding slowly as he did.

"Right..." he replied taking a slow breath, raising his eyes to meet hers.

There was no way Dee was going to buy this kind of bullshit, not anymore. Maintaining her unflinching stare and determined to stay in charge of the situation she fell back in her seat spreading her arms wide against the back of the booth. She was well practised facing down guys in bars who thought that they were the boss when faced with some pretty blonde who was asking too many questions. As far as Dee was concerned there was no way that John was in charge of this situation.

"What do y'want Dad?" She demanded, trying to sound like she DIDN't care what the hell was going on or why her father had chosen now to make contact.

John looked like he always had. He wore the same thrift store plaid that both she and Sam had grown up in. He had the same dark hair that was simultaneously unkempt but regulation length. The same few days worth of un shaven stubble on his chin and the same old brown leather jacket he'd worn all through her childhood but as Dee looked at him it was almost absurdly cliched how much older he looked. He looked tired and flecks of grey that she swore were barley present only four years ago now peppered his hair and beard.

John assessed her carefully. It was the same look he had the first time she'd begged to go out on a hunt with him and the same look he had the first time he'd said yes. After everything he was still judging weather his children were ready, weather they were helpless and needed protecting. It was a right that as far as Dee was concerned he'd given up along time before they left and it only served to piss her off.

In stead of answering her question John simply asked one of his own,

"How's Sam?"

Dee shook her head and downed the last of her freezing cold coffee wincing as she did so. As if called to their side by her action the waitress returned with a fresh pot in hand.

"More honey?" She smiled down at Dee.

"And for your...Dad is it?" She asked turning to John.

"Anything else I can get for you nice folks?" She added.

"Just the coffee thanks." Father and Daughter replied in unison.

"Well ain't that cute!" The waitress chirped as she filled Dee's empty cup and furnished one for John.

"Just gimmie a call if you change your mind ok?" She finally called over her shoulder as she left, leaving Dee and John alone again.

Dee's anger had been pushed back down by the waitress's interruption. It was still there for sure but as they sat, their fingers wound around matching coffee cups Dee threw back her head and let out a laugh, running a hand through her hair and flipping it's length over her left shoulder. She took a moment to relish the obvious femininity of the action, especially in front of her Dad. She returned his assessing stare as if to punctuate it for him.

"How's Sam?" She quickly replied to John's earlier question, laughing again. This time more brightly.

John knew well that if there was a subject that could get her in a good mood it was Sammy and bragging about her little brother's achievements. Sure she always had and still did mock him as a "nerd" and a "bookworm" to his face but clearly her Dad still knew her well enough to at least know she'd rarely overlook a chance to recount his exploits. Deep down in her gut she was surprised to find that she still hoped John might really want to know how his youngest's university career was going.

"Sammy's good!" She offered.

"Not too long before he graduates and he's got a law school interview comin' up soon."

Dee paused again to emphasise just what Sam's achievements meant. How far they had BOTH come in spite of their father's objections. She hesitated before adding the next piece of information about her brother's life.

"He's got a girl too. Jessica." She added.

"She great, they're kinda serious." What she was about to say she knew was probably a step too far and however true it was she was mostly saying it just to piss her Dad off.

"Mom would have been proud. He's gonna have the kinda life she'd have wanted for him. The kind HE always wanted."

Both she and Sam had come long way. They'd built their lives as THEY saw fit despite the disapproval of John Winchester. Dee glared bright eyes at her Dad daring him to take exception. Daring him to tell her what she'd said wasn't true. Instead John just looked firmly down at his coffee again and sighed before quietly but firmly speaking.

"Good." was all he said.

Dee's eyebrows shot up in surprise at her father's reply. In her entire life it was the only positive approval she'd ever heard him give of Sam's iron clad desire to leave the family business behind.

John took a long gulp of his coffee and spoke again, nodding as his cup returned to the table top.

"Mary_ would_ have been pleased."

His eyes were a million miles and 22 years away as he smiled and shook his head taking a long look at Dee from across the booth. His next words honestly floored her, they were something she had never in a million years expected to hear from her Dad.

"You look like her you know."

John smiled and Dee thought she saw his hand flinch. Thought she saw it beginning to reach across the table before pausing and returning to his coffee cup.

"Your smile, your eyes, your hair." He added.

"The way you look like you're not gonna let me get away with any kind of bullshit."

Dee's first instinct was to snap back at him, to tell him that was because he was the king of bullshit and she had to be more than ready to protect herself! Instead her father's approval, his first concrete acknowledgement of her as his daughter got the better of her. She looked down at the long blonde waves falling over her left shoulder and for a moment she let herself smile.

Steeling herself to again demand the reason for her Dad's return she looked up and held his stare, forcing the smile on her lips into a determined glare. It would take more than he'd offered to make it back into her good graces.

"What do you want Dad?" She insisted.

"Why call now?"

John paused again and assessed her, something ticking over in his mind. He reached into his jacket's inside pocket and pulled out his diary, the brown leather journal he'd recorded every piece of information necessary to keep close at hand in since Mom died. He placed it on the table between them, his fingers lingering, slowly tapping on the cover.

Eventually he spoke, his eyes focused and narrow.

"Bobby and Pastor Jim tell me you still hunt."

It wasn't a question and it didn't need an answer. John continued to speak,

"How do you do?"

This time it WAS a question. John was old fashioned enough for Dee to know the question was equal parts her Dad checking on his kid, making sure she was doing the job right and genuine doubt about a lone woman's ability to hunt.

"I do alright." Dee confidently shot back and paused before adding,

"I do pretty damn GOOD actually!"

SHE felt equal parts pissed at yet another guy making himself judge of her ability as a hunter and satisfied at her Dad's acknowledgement of her AS a woman. She knew John had never been able to reconcile her female identity with her eagerness to hunt. For him there was a clear line between Men and Women and what he expected of them. There had been plenty of times it had earned him Ellen Harvelle's ire when they'd been at the Road House.

"You keep stocked up on supplies?" John continued.

"Salt rounds, holy water? And your guns are in good working order? You keep your blades sharp?" He added.

Dee held his stare not flinching so much as an inch at his questions and again refusing to let HIM be the one in charge of the conversation.

"I'm locked and loaded Dad." She threw back, refusing him the "yes Sir" that had satisfied such questions when she was a kid.

"Even made sure Sammy's apartment has pure iron fixtures and devils traps under the rugs in every room. Can't tell you the fit he pitched over that one!" She added, her involuntary smile matching the one that momentarily broke out over John's face.

"Ok." He simply acknowledged in response.

His hand still lingered over the cover of the book on the table and he took another long gulp of coffee almost finishing his cup. He paused yet again looking Dee over, an explanation on the edge of his lips, yet STILL not forth coming.

Dee wasn't about to take any cryptic bullshit on a normal day but tonight that went double. She questioned him yet again, this time letting each word linger as she lent forward against the table.

"What's going on Dad?"

John shook his head a final time before opening his mouth to speak.

"I think I've found the son of a bitch that killed your mother."

He lifted the diary away from the table top gesturing emphatically as he spoke.

"I've caught it's trail and I think I've got a shot at finally getting this thing."

Dee sat dumbfounded. Of all the things that this meeting might have brought, of all the reasons for her Dad to make contact with them again she didn't expect it to be this! In the back of her mind she knew that Dad had never given up on finding whatever killed her Mom but it had always been more like an open pit. Something that they could never fill, even with a million evil things dead by their hands.

She was barley aware of her words as they tumbled out of her mouth in acknowledgement of her Dad's admition.

"For real ?" She questioned.

"But...how?"

She felt her attention quickly sharpen again in time with her hands balling into fists against the table top. The tensions of a dozen or more years and their broken relationship pushed back down inside herself as she spoke. This time her voice was filled with fire, except no longer aimed at John. This time it was directed toward the hunt presented before her.

"What do we need?" She spat out in low tones. "How do we kill this thing?"

John lent toward her, his hands finally wrapping around her's. His large fingers, as worn as the old leather of his jacket engulfing her's so that only stub short tips flecked with the remains of week old nail polish worn away by punches and knife blows and gun powder residue poked out from under them.

"WE don't." He insisted slowly.

Dee felt fury begin to rise inside her. Their relationship was broken, probably past the point of repair and for their own sake her life and Sam's had nothing to do with their father, not any more but he COULDN'T take this away from her. No matter what he said, years of failure to acknowledge her as his daughter, 22 years of his own grief didn't mean that this was any less HER fight than it was his. Before she could speak, before she could spit out a million prepared attacks at her father's failures he spoke again.

"I can't take other jobs and do this." He squeezed Dee's hands tighter for a moment and continued.

"I need you to be there. I need YOU to take the jobs that I can't."

Dee was ready to yell "fuck other jobs!" To scream at him that she didn't care! This was Mom and they didn't matter, nothing else mattered. Instead she fell back in her seat, her hands slipping away from her father's, her eyes shut tight, her head lifted up toward the ceiling.

When she opened her eyes it was with the memories of a hundred innocent and not so innocent people they had saved over the years. People who would have died at the mercy of things they barely understood if not for the years and the blood that her family had given. She looked back at her father, shaking her head speaking quietly this time.

"You can't take this away from me Dad...or from Sam."

John's mouth was open again ready to speak, to insist, to give her some reason why this was his fight and his alone when Dee beat him to it.

"OK." She agreed.

Her Dad's eyes were weary as he looked back at her in response.

"Then I can give people your number if they need help?"

Dee had come to a point in her life where she never expected to connect with John Winchester again. His expectations and all they ways she didn't meet them where four years behind her but if this was going to happen then there was at the very least one thing she would demand of him for it.

"You can give them your **daughter's** number."

Dee spoke slowly and insistently, as she had before fixing her eyes on her Dad, willing him to see HER not some memory or expectation of a son that she'd never been to begin with. John looked at her, his expression was unreadable. Nodding he finally spoke.

"Ok."

For a few seconds they sat silently at the table, no words or resentful looks passing between them. They simply acknowledged each other's existence. Finally John reached into his jacket pocket retrieving a cell phone. Pressing his thumb to the power button it quickly lit up, a green glow reflecting on the diner's window against the darkness outside. He pushed in a series of numbers and held it up beginning to speak.

" This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If it's an emergency, call my daughter Deanna. 785-555-0179. She can help."

Later Dee made her way out of the Easy Daze diner, zipping her jacket closed against the nights cold, closely followed for the first time in four years by her Dad. They made their way into the parking lot toward their respective cars. Turning to face John, Dee brushed a wisp of hair, caught by the nights breeze out of her face. John looked at her, not quite smiling, his eyes still assessing her as she stood before him. They slowly trailed past her to the pale green Ford Corolla she was standing in front of. His mouth quirked up in a crooked smile as he spoke.

"So this is what you're driving these days?" His eyebrows raised in amusement.

Dee sighed and shook her head, deciding not to take offence.

"Hey, she runs fine! She's no '67 Impala but she does the job!" She fixed her Dad with her own crooked smile for maybe the first time that night with genuine amusement.

John let a warm expression settle over his face and he narrowed his eyes in response then reached a hand into his pants pocket pulling out a set of keys. He glanced over his shoulder to the car that had been a fixture of their lives since before his children were born then turned back to Dee. Raising an eyebrow he extended his arm, the keys briefly catching the light that radiated out from the diner. He held them before her and spoke.

"Go on, take 'em." was all he said.

Dee's eyes went wide as she realised the gesture's meaning. For the second time that night she felt more like 16 than 26.

"Son of a bitch!" Was all she managed to get out before John spoke again.

"She should always have been your's once you were old enough. It's time I put that right. If you can bare to part with this thing that is." He briefly knocked the Corolla with his boot, I gotta get around too!

Dee began to speak opening her mouth in shock and awe.

"Dad I..." Was all she managed before her father interrupted her.

"Just take 'em Deanna!" He barked out, shaking his head with an amused grin.

Dee took the moment to acknowledge the very first time her Dad had used her name. Grinning a broad grin she locked eyes with John then quickly turned her attention to the keys.

"Heeey Baby!" She purred taking the shining pieces of metal reverently into her hands.

Her attention was still on the keys when John stepped closer and pulled her into a hug. Momentarily shocked Dee took a second to catch her breath. John Winchester had rarely been a hugger! She awkwardly reached her arms around him in response, car keys jangling as she did so, for a moment not quite sure what to make of the situation until John spoke again pulling her tighter.

"I'm sorry Deanna... I'm so Sorry."

Dee's awkward embrace turned into a fierce grip around him. Just like physical affection, emotional acknowledgements, Sammy's tantrums aside had always been rare things for the Winchesters. It was the last thing she expected to be doing when she'd arrived at the diner that night. She pulled away slightly to look at her Dad and spoke.

"My friends call me Dee."

John looked at her considering,

"Dee." He acknowledged.

"It's pretty." He added.

"It's fucking awesome." Dee declared.

"That's my girl!" John answered in reply.


	3. Chapter 3

A week later Dee had been away on a hunting trip and Sam was at the library late, preparing for his Law School interview the next day. Returning home he felt blood drip onto his face, he saw the apartment engulfed in fire and Jessica pinned to the ceiling in flames.

Dee returned just in time to tear him from the burning wreckage of his life and a few days later they BOTH pulled away from Palo Alto in the Impala with Sam staring out of the passenger side window.


End file.
